


I've Waited All My Life To See You Again.

by Kaoru_chibimaster



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, I'm Sorry, M/M, Post Game, Reunions, kinda sad but kinda happy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 03:31:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13604628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoru_chibimaster/pseuds/Kaoru_chibimaster
Summary: This was the best birthday gift Ignis could have asked for.





	I've Waited All My Life To See You Again.

**Author's Note:**

> I missed last year’s Ignoct week and this one snuck up on me so I didn’t really have the time to write more than one fic for it (for Day 3). Let’s pretend this is part of Ignoct week though because that makes me feel better.

It was ironic to Ignis, really, that he would die on his birthday.

Not a sad thing. Not depressing or terrifying. He’d like to think he’d accepted it rather gracefully, in fact. His time was coming soon enough. He hadn’t thought it’d be quite as soon as this, certainly didn’t think he’d go before Prompto (not that he thought this rudely, but Prompto was unfortunately never made to last), and certainly didn’t think illness would be the thing to do him in. He’d been fine the last week. Had gone to visit Prompto at the hospital, had held that wrinkly and frail hand in his own, had smiled at the bad jokes and grimaced at the pained coughs… He’d walked out of that hospital with his back straight and his chin up despite his wobbly knees. He’d waded through the sick and the injured, the people who didn’t have the luxury and obligation of overcoming their illnesses and disabilities. He’d carried a cane to help hold his weight where his knees no longer could, not to get around. Not anymore. He’d long since grown accustomed to the dark, after all. Even when the sun returned.

Well, for everyone else. It hadn’t quite come back for him, in more ways than one. He’d lost his most precious person, and after a lifetime of losing people this hadn’t gone over well with him. He’d spent months mourning his king. Wishing he could bring him back simply to hold him in his arms again, and hoping he was happy wherever he’d gone. The afterlife, most likely. Heaven, if there was one, most definitely. He was far too kind for anything else. Ignis had reached a low point in his life after the fact, one in which he’d considered following Noctis into the beyond. But he’d promised to walk tall for his king, his best friend and his love, and so he did. He continued to do so, after four more decades of dedication and determination.

And then the coughing started.

It was subtle at first. A small cough here and there that he would excuse himself with, pulling out a handkerchief and patting at his mouth with it out of politeness. Then the small coughs turned into fits, the sort that wracked Prompto’s body frequently, and Ignis found himself hiding the wet spittle that was forced from his throat behind that very same handkerchief. He couldn’t see the fluid, but he could taste it. Blood.

He’d kept his condition quiet for the first couple days, but whatever he’d caught had started to rapidly overtake him. Upon the fourth day, he could no longer leave his bed for anything other than the necessary. It did scare him at first, the idea that he was succumbing so quickly to an illness, unable to easily fend it off in his old age. But by the seventh day, he’d accepted it. He’d gotten a few visits earlier that morning to make sure he was eating and didn’t need any help getting up to use the toilet. He’d gotten a call from Prompto urging him to ‘hang in there’ and assuring him he’d be fine. He wouldn’t be fine, at least not physically. Everything had started to fail him. No one knew what he’d come down with and it was killing him too quickly for them to find out in time to save him. Quite frankly, he didn’t want to be ‘saved’ anymore. Death would be his salvation.

In Lucis, the reaper was worshipped. She was a gentle being, come to take the souls of the dead to their eternal happiness. Her black garb was warming, revered by the people and worn only by the royal family and its associates. Her bony fingers were a reminder of what was to come, and yet they were not frightening. They held one’s hand with the softness of a mother to her child. Her embrace was cold as ice, so cold that it almost became warm again. Her scythe was not meant to cause pain, quite the contrary in fact. It pulled the soul from its physically trappings, from its earthly suffering, and carried it to the realm of the dead. A realm of sunshine and comfort and reunion.

Ignis looked forward to that the most. The reunion. He figured there was no point in fearing death when it came to him so swiftly and promised only to take him to a place of happiness. He’d never been much a religious man, but age and experience had taught him that fearing the inevitable would not stop, nor delay it. He took religious tales closer to heart and allowed them to comfort him in his last moments. He’d allowed his eyes to close with them. In his bed, he never opened them again.

His spirit, however, saw again. It saw a young black haired boy smiling joyously and holding Ignis’ hand within his own two small ones. It saw a dignified older man who, despite his severe face and rim rod posture, looked down at Ignis fondly. It saw a kindly woman who had been assigned to watch over both Ignis and the prince and had taken to it with a contagious enthusiasm. It saw the king reaching down to ruffle Ignis’ hair in a fatherly sort of way. It saw his tutors and university professors congratulating him on a job well done. It saw his three friends laughing and joking around a campfire as they all ate their dinner. It saw the smooth, worry-free, slumbering face of his love, head rested against a pillow, black strands of hair fanned over the fabric of the casing as Ignis’ fingers stroked through the free strands on the other side of Noctis’ head.

He’d heard tales of those who died having their lives flash before their eyes. These were not flashes. They were simply…memories. They idled by without a sense of time, Ignis watching from behind his own eyes as he lived day to day learning, growing, maturing. As expected, they’d abruptly turned dark right around their time spent in Altissia. From there, there wasn’t much else he could consider an experience. It had started to blur together when he could no longer see. His one bright light in the distance had been Noctis’ return and it had lasted for only a few nights before they had to say goodbye again.  

There would be no more of that this time. They would never have to say goodbye again, and Ignis was ready, more than anything, to reunite with his king, his oldest friend, and his first and only love, for the rest of their eternity. It was then that Ignis was truly welcomed into death’s embrace, and he was sure he went smiling. He certainly was when he truly opened his eyes, now experiencing something tangible. No longer was he floating through his own memories, reflecting on his life. This was his afterlife. And his afterlife was curiously familiar. A hallway decorated with ornate wallpaper, black as night. The flooring covered in plush carpet and the windows covered by curtains that likely cost as much as a small car. The top floor of a building Ignis had long since considered home. And in front of him, a door that had welcomed him in countless times. He reached out and turned the knob, eagerly stepping inside.

Ah. It was most certainly Noctis’ old flat.

Same as always, messy and lived in. Windows left uncovered as the entirety of Insomnia was displayed. It was night time, apparently, and the city was lit up spectacularly. A far cry from the defeated gray his friends described it as post-restoration. The couch had a blanket half hanging off of it, a typical sight in the living space of a man who could fall asleep anywhere. The television was left on low, the background light and noise comforting to one who lived alone (despite the many night Ignis had spent there with him). The kitchen was a disaster, as usual. Noctis’ cleaning habits had improved as he’d grown and he’d graduated from leaving trash everywhere to leaving trash here and there and occasionally…usually forgetting to clean up his dishes. Ignis had become far less lenient with it the older they’d gotten. Needless to say, Noctis knew better. But Ignis would leave it alone. Wouldn’t color their reunion with a nagging tone and overbearing presence. Instead, he stepped further inside, examining his surroundings and smiling softly at the nostalgia it brought. It brought him back to being in his twenties, visiting Noctis for both work and pleasure. Mostly pleasure. They were insufferably randy as young adults, he was sure. Looking back to the windows again, Ignis peered at his reflection in the glass and found that he was indeed once again twenty-two. It was strange being in such a young body again. Yet he did not find himself itching for his cane or rubbing at the phantom pain in his eyes. There was no pain, no need for a cane. Not in the afterlife. In fact, Ignis felt freer than he ever had before. As if all of his bodily limits had simply disappeared. It was nearly euphoric, the idea that he was beyond his own humanity now. It didn’t make him sad, surprisingly. He felt a bit guilty for leaving Gladio and Prompto behind, but otherwise? This was the best he’d felt in _years_.

He turned on his heel then and made a beeline for Noctis’ bedroom. He was positive he’d find the young king there. The door had been left open, as if inviting Ignis in. The room itself was as homely as ever, clothes strewn about, unpaired socks literally the floor, bed unmade, game controllers left out in the middle of the television stand, window curtains pulled back to let as much light in as possible. And its centerpiece was a twenty year old in wrinkled clothes, his hair messy and his cheeks pink with sleep. He blinked slowly at Ignis, rubbing at the back of his head tiredly.

“Heard you come in through the front door,” he said. Ignis raised his eyebrows at that.

“You were expecting me?” he asked, stepping closer. Noctis immediately opened up to him, lowering his arms to wrap them around Ignis’ waist. The gesture was easily reciprocated.

“Not this soon,” Noctis mumbled into Ignis’ shirt. “I mean, time doesn’t really pass here but I thought…Thought it’d take you a little longer to get here.”

Ignis was silent for that. He wasn’t really sure what to say. No one was ever really prepared for these things. When one spent their every waking day living, death tended to be an afterthought. It was spoken about and seen and heard about, but most never thought about it actually happening to them until it finally was. It was simply a far away thing until then. Life caught up quickly, though.

“…How long did it…?”

“I was seventy-thr—seventy-four.” Right. He’d just turned seventy four that day.

“Heh. Ripe old age, huh?” The arms around Ignis tightened. “That’s good, I’m glad.”

The unspoken words rang in Ignis’ ears. That Noctis was glad he hadn’t gone right after his king. Noctis was already gone too soon. It would’ve added insult to injury if Ignis had died then as well.

“I kept my promise. I’ve walked tall, well…as tall as I could, for the rest of my life,” Ignis reassured him. It worked. Noctis practically sagged against him in relief.

“That’s all I could ask for. What about the others?”

“As good as they could be. We were all getting older, though, and Prompto’s not much longer for that world.”

Noctis huffed a bit. A sad but accepting sound. “We’ll throw them both a party when they get here.”

Ignis smiled at that. They’d like that; just a party with only the four of them. It’d be like old times. “That we shall.”

“Later then. I want you to myself right now,” Noctis said. Ignis would have agreed on the spot, still did, but it was hard to do so verbally when Noctis pressed their mouths together. It had been too long. Far too long. Even after the ten years of darkness, the couple hadn’t had much time to themselves to simply enjoy one another’s presence. Honestly, they hadn’t really had reprieve like this since before the road trip. And Ignis had so much to talk about with Noctis, so much to ask and so much to tell. But he couldn’t think straight with his love pressed up against him, holding him tightly as they kissed. He wasn’t sure he wanted to think straight.

“I think…we’re both…getting a bit…distracted…” Ignis mumbled between kisses. He didn’t truly plan to stop, though. Noctis’ lips felt warm against his. Just as soft and perfect as he remembered. Just as sweet when Noctis licked at his lower lip, pushing his tongue inside when Ignis opened his mouth. His arms went around his love’s smaller form, grasping into the fabric of his shirt tightly. They stood there wrapped up in one another for longer than Ignis could count. Longer still when they eventually, inevitably, fell into bed together. One would be wrong to think a soul couldn’t feel in the afterlife. Ignis couldn’t even begin to describe the many things he was feeling as he and Noctis made love. Even after they finished, they refused to untangle from one another. Ignis felt Noctis smiling against his skin as they held each other, and it only made his hold tighten.

He figured he could definitely spend eternity like this.

“Happy birthday, by the way…” Noctis sighed contently.

“Glad to see _you_ remembered.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you forgot your own damn birthday again.”

“Only for a bit, love,” Ignis grinned, pressing a peck to Noctis forehead. He earned an amused chuckle in return.

“Good thing you’re here then so I don’t have to make the cake by myself.”

“I’m sure. You _would_ be the one somehow capable of setting heaven on fire.”

“Thanks for the confidence.”

Despite Noct’s pout, Ignis could only find himself smiling brighter, pulling the other impossibly closer to him. Moments like these…gods he’d missed them. And he’d get to have them for the rest of forever now. He had no reason not to be happy. If anything, this was the best birthday present Ignis could have asked for.


End file.
